


Good Grief

by saintway



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, a little graphic near the middle but not bad, basically just a fight and then wallowing, this is my first work lmao, very brief and vague description of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintway/pseuds/saintway
Summary: Jump scared by Talon Company? Kill them and have an existential crisis.
Kudos: 1





	Good Grief

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever posting, so i'm sorry if the tags aren't right.  
> Like in the tags - there is a vague description of vomiting (it's really not bad) and some graphic-y description of a corpse (again, it's not super bad).  
> No dialogue, just my (unnamed) courier having a well-deserved meltdown.

It happens how all surprise attacks happen – by surprise. 

She’s outside of the waystation by Grayditch. Pops in on her way to Wilks’, scrounging for anything useful – caps, liquor, ammo. Instead, all she finds is radroaches, a radscorpion that almost takes her hand, and too many teddy bears. It’s a bust – a waste of valuable ammo and energy. After the exhaustive search, she scrapes the bits of exoskeleton off her clothes and heads back out. She sticks her head out of the doorway, eyes swiveling over the landscape for any new enemies. Her 10 mm is in her palm, tapping against a muscled thigh as she looks. 

Stepping out confidently, she prepares to march towards Grayditch. It’s here, four steps from the building, that a booming shotgun blast barely misses her head. Instead landing into the metal wall to her right. Instinct over thought, her boots slide into the dusty dirt beneath her towards cover, quickly drawing her shotgun from her back.

She holds her weapon close to her body and peers out the side, praying to god it isn’t a super mutant. Instead, her gaze lands on three sets of black combat armor. Talon Company. Of course. She still hasn’t learned whose ire she’s gained but decides now really isn’t the time to dwell on it. She empties her lungs and fires – her first shot is too far left, landing into the dirt behind asshole number one. Her second shot hits the closest merc in the leg, dropping him to one knee. Her third shot lands dead center on the second closest asshole, going down like an armor-plated brick. Asshole number three takes his opportunity then – bullet hitting and bouncing off her protected right shoulder. 

She fumbles her weapon, scrambling back to her space behind the wall. She takes a deep breath and quickly presses on her shoulder, deciding that it’s (thankfully) not broken, just dislocated. She can still work with that. She holsters her shotgun, painfully wrenching her shoulder back, a gasp and groan of pain leaving her before she can bite down on her bottom lip. She pulls the 10 mm back out, figuring there’s a better chance of shooting straight if the recoil doesn’t deliver a fiery burst of pain with each bullet.  
She crawls back out, staying low on her knees before firing rapidly at the two remaining mercs. One quickly goes down, having made a lucky shot straight into his eye. The last one takes longer, his bullets firing into the dirt around her. It seems that shooting with a blasted-out knee is pretty distracting. Several bullets later, she finally hits him, straight into his throat. He dies with a gurgle and a whimper, nothing like the taunting man she was just fighting a minute earlier. 

Watching with a furrowed gaze, slowly lowering her pistol to rest beside her. She plops onto her ass, knees drawn close to rest her arms. Still breathing heavily, none of the adrenaline fading, she shakes and watches. Watches the three dead men in front of her. Rapid pace thoughts are flying through her head, none of which she can firmly grasp. Despite the fight being over, she’s still afraid. She starts to think about what could’ve happened; if she had been slower, if her gun jammed, if he aimed just a bit to the left. 

She pictures herself with a hole in her chest; three mercs standing above her corpse ready to cut her head off just like the contract wants. It makes her nauseous, a deep rolling wave that takes over and she quickly leans forward to empty her stomach on the ground. Now, she thinks of Jonas, back in the vault with his own hole and realizes how easily that could’ve been her too. Instead of the mercs, she sees the Overseer in their place, taunting her. Thinks of sweet Amata being tormented by her father and of Grandma Taylor being eaten by roaches in the dining hall. She feels sick again, but instead of stomach acid coming out, it’s tears.  
It’s hits fast and hard, and soon she’s taking sobbing gasps and fat tears are rolling down her face. She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe! She sticks her head between her knees and tries to take deep breaths, but all she can do is stuttered, suffocated, gasps. This is all she does for minutes before she feels dizzy; desperately realizing if she doesn’t calm down, she’s going to pass out. She tries again to breathe, despite her hiccuping cries, and begins to succeed. 

Exhausting crawls over her like a rash, claiming her from head to toe. She lies back in the dirt and fumbles around for her pistol, desperate for the comforting weight in her grip. It’s been three months since she left the vault, she realizes, and this is the first time she’s cried. Circumstances delaying her grief and anger. Until, it hits her all at once, like a tanker into a brick wall. The grief she feels for her lost life is overwhelming. It was never perfect, but it was hers. She felt safe in the vault, despite everything. Happy with her dad and Jonas, happy with Amata, even happy fighting Butch and the other Tunnel Snakes.  
Unlike out here, it wasn’t a fight for survival, to barely get by. Her hands weren’t soaked in blood and her dreams hadn’t been replaced by bodies and bullets. She wants to go home, sleep in her bed, have dinner with her dad. Right now, she would do almost anything to feel clean and safe again. 

This grief fuels her anger, too. She rages at the unfairness (“Well shit, kid. Life ain’t fair.”). Why did she have to leave? She didn’t know about her dad’s plans, he specifically kept her in the dark for that reason. Though, she remembers just how much she and her father were disliked by the Overseer, being born out in the wastes must have sullied his opinion of them. Why didn’t her dad think of that before abandoning her? That’s what he did, abandoned her. No holotape can ever make up for leaving without a true goodbye or even without the option to come. She’s smart, on track to becoming the vault engineer, she could’ve helped had he asked. Despite that, she wasn’t ready to be without him yet. The selfish part of her wants to say fuck the wasteland, she needs him more. 

She realizes she’s also mad at her mom, a woman she’s never met, for leaving her. She knows there really wasn’t anything that could be done, Doctor Li and Dad would’ve saved her if they could, but her irrational brain is upset for being left behind then too. All of this makes her feel like a little girl again. A small, frightened, pitiful thing that begs her daddy to keep the night light on. She hates it, refuses to be it. She’s the famed Lone Wanderer – there’s no room for her to cry out in the dirt. 

She pulls a deep grounding breath into her lungs and stands. Careful of her shoulder as she pulls herself up and holsters her pistol back to her thigh. She walks over to the first body, peering down at him with an empty face. Looting pockets and re-purposing armor for her own needs, she does it two more times. Looking at her Pip-Boy, she realizes she isn’t far from Megaton still. She needs Doc Church to fix her shoulder and to wipe away the snot and tears in private. 

She turns, leaving the bodies for the animals and wasteland sun, and trudges back to her new home.

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on true story. i went into the sewer waystation by grayditch and when i came out i got jumpscared by talon mercs and i almost cried. so i wrote this i guess  
> I hope you liked this angsty mess.  
> constructive criticism is absolutely welcomed.


End file.
